The Life Of Male Maids
by Sylvilution
Summary: Three orphan Pokemon have managed to find a job and life of servantry, under the employment of their wealthy, mysterious employer. But despite the promise of a new life, they will find out that there's no escape from what they are about to become. Can their long-standing friendship endure it? Or will it evolve or worse, fall apart? (Note: A Few Lemons)
1. Recruitment

**Wow, it's been seven months since I published anything here! And that's about to change, since I've got a multi-chaptered idea this time around!**

**Do note, that while this is going to be quite full of adult content, the first few chapters are all about developing story and character. I want to do something outside the regular 'Character. Rushed confession. Sex.' cycle. But don't worry if you're looking for juicy stuff. It'll get there~**

_**With that said, enjoy!**_

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><p><span><strong>The Life of Male Maids<strong>

Chapter 1: Recruitment

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><p>Gothitelle set down the papers and mulled over the options, his eyes staring up at the arched ceiling.<br>Sitting in his study, at his exquisitely handcrafted oak table on a floor of fine carpets, surrounded by shelves upon shelves of books of all choices. And while the room itself was more expensive than an average house, this was just the tip of the iceberg. Such was the benefits that came with being so immeasurably wealthy.

He opened the drawer in his desk, its interior padded with rich velvet, and pulled out a small binder, one filled with pictures. He pulled out one and placed it on his desk. It was a picture of himself, and his most ubiquitous features stood out. No lipstick or eyeliner, short and untied hair, broader shoulders and a simple, one-piece dress of black fabric, tied with a silky white belt around a waist, complimenting his identical gloves.

He carefully placed the image into his file. Looking at himself had helped him make his decision. He stowed the binder away again, making sure it was in the same place, despising messiness and misplaced objects. Across his desk lay the papers, a telephone, a neatly arranged lines of fountain pens, and a panel dotted with over a dozen buttons, all in either a different shape or color. He pressed one, causing a simple, one-note chime to echo outside his study, before putting his hands together and composing himself in his tailored desk chair.

Across the room, the oak door, covered with delicate, detailed, carved patterns, creaked open.

"Come in." Gothitelle nodded, pronouncing the two words carefully, keeping it emotionless but orderly.

The door swung further ajar, and three other Pokemon came in, one after the other, stopping in front of the table, side by side. Their manner was formal, and tense, waiting for a verdict.

On the left, a Lopunny stood with hands folded over each other, with a slim stature, lustrous and attractive caramel eyes and long, floppy ears, donned with fluffy, cream-colored fur that contrasted elegantly with his predominantly brown fur.

In the middle was a Gardveoir, looking attentive, serious and firm, which belied the graceful appearance, with the long, flowing dress and curled green hair that was clearly very well tended for.

To the right, arms at the sides, stood a Delphox, with brilliant vermillion eyes, smooth facial features, punctuated by a warm, welcoming smile, and a long, dark red coat of fur similar to robes, decorated with orange flame patterns at the knees, yellow fur on the shoulders that draped down like an overcoat, and a long, pale yellow tail that poked through the back of his robes.

Despite their effeminate appearances, the three of them were all male, just like Gothitelle. The papers he had been reading were their application forms. According to their qualifications, there were none. They were all orphans, uneducated but remarkably intelligent, having been together throughout their lives and learning through life.

Gothitelle examined them carefully. None of them looked older than nineteen, and even though they were wearing different expressions, highlighting their conflicting personalities, he could sense a strong bond between the three of them. Another reason to hire them for the job that was available.

He cleared his throat, then stood up to address them. "You three." He spoke in an authoritative tone, causing the three pairs of eyes to turn to him, which they did in a mix of anxiety and expectancy.

"Before I officially hire you, I must ask you questions."

The three of them nodded, but it was Gardevoir who spoke up. "Questions such as what?"

Gothitelle shook his head. "First mistake." He noted. "If you are planning to apply in servantry, you must address your employer respectfully." He strode around the table, every step measured and equal to the last, back straight and eyes watching closely. "You do not have to call me Master, if it comes off as derogatory for you, but the minimal is to go by 'sir'."

He now stood in front of the three of them, and turned to their direction. "Let me outline your duties, first." He said sternly, looking all three of them in the eyes one by one. "Your working hours shall be from seven in the morning to ten at night, excluding weekends, where my schedule for you is subjective to change. Breaks will be provided, and you will be paid by the week. Your wage will be considerably generous, as I do not like to be greedy to my workers, but if any of you step out of line, expect a deduction in pay, if nothing else."

He paused, letting the words hang in the air, patiently watching the slow nods of the three Pokemon as the words sunk in.

"You will be given uniforms, which you will find in your sleeping quarters, which I have made sure will be more than adequate for even the common man, and in addiation, you will all be given a title, a nickname of sorts. This is not to degrade you, or to remove your identity. This is a habit of convenience for myself and for the other employees in the household."

He turned to Lopunny, and gestured to him. "You will go by the title of Lorin." His hand moved to point to Gardevoir. "You will be referred to as Gale." Before the Embrace Pokemon could object, Gothitelle moved on to Delphox. "Lastly, you will be known as Deman."

He dropped his hand, letting it wander behind his back, where it was cupped by the other hand. "You may proceed to your quarters. I will speak with you again tomorrow." He nodded, in both approval and respectful dismissal. "You are all hired."

* * *

><p>"Lorin, Gale and Deman." Gale breathed, his hands resting against the huge window in his room, facing the floor to deter himself from the glare of the setting sun. "They may remove our old names in this household, but...it's certainly better than our old names, right?"<p>

He looked up and around, waiting for an answer, despite being alone. He slumped to the floor, brushing away the deep fabric of the curtains that hung from high above. It wasn't just the curtains that were fancy and expensive. The whole room screamed of luxury. The four poster bed seemed to embrace his form when he laid on it, smothering him in comfort so unknown to a Pokemon who hadn't slept on a proper mattress in years. The high ceilings were built for the purpose of ventilation, and the cool, airy atmosphere was so much cleaner and comforting than the dank and humid shelters he had once lived in. The wardrobe was not just beautifully constructed, it was impressively functional, with enough space for Gale to store eight duplicates of himself. A drawer inside was marked with a handwritten note, indicating that his new uniform was inside, but he and his friends had agreed not to see what they were until the next day.

But the one feature Gale could easily feel at home with inside the superfluous, luxurious new room was the shower. Hidden inside a separate room, cordoned off by a separate door, the shower was, unlike everything else he had seen, nothing too spectacular, just a simple room with baby blue tiles on every surface. As he stood under the shower, the jets of water, adjusted to be perfectly soothing, washed away his grime and worries, as if it was cleaning the inside of his head and heart as well. It had been so long since he had properly bathed, and it had never felt as amazing as the shower.

Without a change of clothes, he wrapped the pure white towels around his waist while his dress dried out. Despite the peace he had found in the shower, reality had yet to settle in. After so many years of homelessness and poverty, fighting for survival, it wasn't the excess of luxury that felt alien, it was even the feeling of security that felt so strange.

"Have we, have I, made the right choice...?"

* * *

><p>Lorin had started crying the moment he had collapsed into his bed, and buried his face is the mattress. He wasn't sure if the tears were of relief or another feeling, and that made him cry even more.<p>

The new life he had chosen had been Gale's idea. Both Lorin and Deman saw him as the leader. He was assertive, firm and determined, yet he never felt comfortable acting without his friends approval. He seemed so sure of himself, and that, to Lorin, contrasted so badly with himself. He was easily the most feminine, not just in appearance. Shy, timid, and easily intimidated, the Lopunny always felt like a target, even with his friends around to aid him.

And now, he had felt he had found his place. A life of stability, working day in and day out, tending to the needs of a master, it felt so fitting, especially for a tidy, if cowardly, Pokemon like himself.

"So why do I feel so...confused?" He whimpered through his sobs. He buried his head into his pillow, already damp with his tears, and slowly fell into the embracing clutches of sleep.

"Please...please be clearer in the mornings..."

* * *

><p>Deman didn't trust the bed. It seemed to comfortable to be true, even when he made contact with it with a brush of his hand. He swiped a pillow and a sheet and laid it out on the floor, lying down on the cold, hard marble floor. Like Gale, he had showered and dried off, knowing that even though the water hurt as it steamed off his fur, he needed to stay clean. With thorough grooming to much to ask for after days of neglect, the shower was the quickest option.<p>

Deman had come from a wealthy family, that much he could remember of his parents before they had vanished and left him alone. Soon afterwards, the law found them guilty of crime, which he had never learnt what they were, and not only was he stripped of his parents, but of any inheritance as well.

He remembered the foster home he had been taken to. He had been forced to forget his family name, and the adoptive pair of Golduck parents had clearly been expecting more than a straggled Fennekin with a criminal parentage. They never really took him in, and didn't seem to mind when Deman had run away.

He considered himself impossibly fortunate to have come across Gale and Lorin when he did, lost and starving on a rainy day in a network of city slums. And for the first time, he felt like he had found a family, a feeling that flooded his heart back then, and now was a comforting memory.

But now he was here. Separated by his friends by walls, both of them in an identical room, he was sure. While his heritage had been an upper-class one, this was far too fancy for his taste, even though he wasn't as taken aback as his friends had been. Gale had been from a poorer family, and Lorin never knew his parents. But even then, his reality still shocked him.

"I guess this is destiny." He sighed into his pillow. "It won't be that bad, I'm sure." He stirred a little, trying to fight off a nagging thought in the back of his head.

"As long as it doesn't tear us apart.."


	2. The First Day

Chapter 2: The First Day

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><p>The sun rose early the next day, but Deman only rose when the sound of knocking hit his door. His eyes fluttered open, still shut from the weight of sleep. A light sleeper usually, he half-registered fascination at himself for sleeping so deeply.<p>

He tossed back his sheets and forced himself to sit up, a huge feat considering how heavy he felt after a good night's rest. He watched the light break through the towering window, harsh rays of sun making little irritation to his eyes so used to glaring brightness.

"Recap." He muttered groggily, still half-asleep inside. "Yesterday, we applied." He yawned lazily, before reality came down on him. "We applied." His eyes shot open, like someone had punched him in the chest. He sprung up and got to his feet, looking at where he had slept, then to the huge bed he had rejected sleeping on, before finally turning a full circle, taking in the features of his room once more.

Yesterday, it didn't seem real. Years of homelessness and fear couldn't have suddenly ended, so he had felt. But now, it was an all too apparent reality. He dropped to his knees, but not in shock. In relief. He grinned to himself, sighing gratefully, as if a huge weight had been lifted off his back.

The knock on his door echoed through the room again, and Deman snapped to his senses. There wasn't time for gratitude. Not yet. He got to his feet, and headed for his wardrobe.

"If I'm grateful, I should show it in my work." He told himself, willing to give his new job his full dedication. He clapped his hands together, before opening the drawer marked with a note. What he saw made him gasp.

* * *

><p>Gale felt ready to scream, curse and break things all at once.<p>

"A maid uniform?! Seriously?!" He screamed through deliberate whisper, making sure no one would hear him. "Is this some kind of sick joke?!"

He lashed out at the air, fists and legs striking non-existent targets, before he slumped forwards against the bed, face planted into the black fabric of a maid's uniform, consisting of two pieces and an assortment of accessories. He felt ready to tear the dress apart, but he knew resentfully that it wouldn't make a good impression.

But that didn't help make it any less defeating. It was bad enough he looked feminine, as he had since he was a ten-year old Kirlia, but now this. It was rubbing salt into the wound, enough to cause a combination of disbelief, embarrassment and anger to course through him.

He looked up, sighing nasally, trying to blow off as much steam as possible before his shift began. He never expected the job to be straightforward, no matter how simple it had sounded, but he wasn't expecting this kind of humiliation, certainly not on the first day.

His mind took the opportunity to wander, reflecting back on the situation he, Lorin and Deman had been in twenty-four hours ago. Lost, famished and dirty, they looked so out of place in the exotic, rolling acres of greenery and upper-class estate, having failed to find any ways around it. The elite of society lived on those lands, and their pride and wealth scowled down upon the poor, no matter how helpless they appeared.

As they threaded through the wide streets, lined by shady birch trees on the sides, they saw the front gates of Gothitelle's residence, where they could see his vast castle-like mansion protruding just over the hill the driveway climbed over. Along the gleaming steel framework of the sliding gate hung a small notice sign, telling of an opening in the position of housekeeping in large, black letters.

Gale had become inquisitive immediately. If someone was so rich, why would their only notice for recruitment be in the gate of their residence? But on the other hand, if someone was so excessively wealthy, they would be able to provide for and shelter them.

He turned back to his friends, who were visibly weary and despondent, all three of them having a feeling of consignment to a homeless, hopeless, unknown existence. He led their attention to the sign, and with the way their faces lightened up with hope, he knew what their next step had to be, even if he was trying to think of any ways to avoid it.

"We can't survive on our own anymore." Deman had said. "We're resillient, but one day we'll either starve or fall to something else unpleasant."

"I don't trust the rich." Gale spat back, resentment in his voice.

"I don't either." His Fire-type friend replied. "But do we have any other choices?" He shook his head. "The only other alternatives are even worse."

Gale knew his friend's words were true, operating on reasoning and optimism. Begrudgingly, he nodded and pressed the button on the nearby intercom.

"We're here for the job." He spoke into it. Instantly, the gate slid open, silently gliding to the side, and the three of them headed up the driveway.

Gale tried to imagine where he would have been otherwise. And he knew Deman had been right. They had security living inside the mansion. They had accommodation and food. They had what they needed to survive, far more than that.

He sighed again, then rose to his feet, ready to resign to his fate. The dress may be embarrassing, but it was still far better than rotting away in the streets. He picked up the dress and headed for the shower.

* * *

><p>In addition to the showering area, the washroom also contained a sink and cupboard, both fashioned out of marble, and full-height mirror than stretched across an entire wall.<p>

In his own washroom, Lorin watched his reflection as he slid his final garment, the lacy white gloves, over his hands. He had to admit, the uniform did a good job at dispelling any indications that he was a male. The blouse, black with a white trim, went down to his knees, while the top was open at the neck, complete with sleeves that stopped just short of the elbow, again trimmed with white.

Strangely, he felt perfectly comfortable in the dress. He felt it suited his appearance and build so well that he didn't care if it was female attire. He giggled at his reflection, then practiced perfecting his posture, keeping his back straight, his legs close together, his chin up, as if waiting for orders.

'Perfect.' He thought, strangely excited to begin work. He didn't know if it was the dress playing with his mind, but the idea of cleaning was one he was very familiar with, as he was very attentive to his grooming and the condition of himself and his friends, as well as the surroundings. Deman used to suggest that they would all have caught sicknesses numerous times had it not been for Lorin's attention to detail.

He left the washroom and headed back to his bedroom, striding towards the knocking on his door. Upon opening it, he found himself facing another uniformed Pokemon, an Audino in a white suit, with a serious expression and an arm in front of his chest, draped with a white cloth. The typical butler uniform.

He nodded. "Good, awake and dressed." He said, a hint of approval in his relatively flat, deep voice. To the left, Gale and Deman emerged from their rooms, almost in sync. Gale looked spectacular, with a long, sleeveless black dress trimmed in white, complimented by a headpiece, full length gloves and silky belt wrapped around his waist, all in white. The mix of black and white made his scarlet eyes and green curls of hair all the more noticeable, though his expression indicated he wasn't pleased to be wearing his attire.

Deman, on the other hand, seemed a lot more indifferent, which was a lot easier for him. He was only wearing the top part of the uniform, buttoned down at the front, since his robes substituted for a full dress. And that one piece he was wearing was tucked underneath an expensive, long sleeved suit, much like the Audino butler that had knocked their doors. His appearance seemed formal and fancy, but not obviously effeminate. Lorin briefly wondered why.

The Audino nodded at them. "Come with me." He ordered, then turned around in one smooth motion, leading them down the hallways. "Our Master would like to speak with you before you begin your shift."

Lorin looked at his friends once, then at their rooms, all placed back to back, Gale's room right in the middle, Deman's the furthest away, then turned to hastily follow the Normal-type.

* * *

><p>Lorin took the walk to start forming a mental layout of the mansion.<p>

For a start, it was huge. Squarish in shape, each side was about a hundred metres long, at least, with wide hallways filled with rising, ornate pillars and a wall of windows and curtains dividing him from the outside words, which allowed the orange rays of morning light to shine through from the east, throwing long, stretched shadows of him and his friends against the opposite wall. The mansion was divided into four sectors as well, with their sleeping quarters on the east wing. At each corner of the mansion was a wide, spiralling staircase cast out of stone, cold to his bare feet,which twisted upwards onto the second floor. There were no signs on the doors or in the hallways on either floor, and whatever was behind the doors remained a mystery to him.

Gale, ever so inquisitive, had taken the opportunity to ask the Audino a slew of questions, most of which were answered without much emotion, or even much effort. During the walk, they had learnt that the Audino's title was Auvin, that he was in his mid-thirties, he had worked on the estate for around seven years and counting, and was one of the fifteen members of the staff, including Lorin and his friends.

But conversation started to get edgy when Gale brought up questions over Gothitelle.

"What's his name?" He asked.

Auvin simply shrugged, not even looking back. "It's none of my concern."

"It should be." Gale snapped back. "And what's with his choice of uniform for us?"

"Ask him, I'm just following his orders." The Audino replied, very dismissive but polite in manner.

"I'm asking you." Gale muttered, annoyed with the vague answers.

Auvin stopped and turned. "Listen." He said, looking Gale in the eyes, his own showing nothing but signs of irritation. "It is not my business as to who my master is, as long as he pays me and acts respectfully. He meets both of those criteria. Secondly, you ask too many questions. You should learn to do as your told if you want to keep your job."

With that, he turned around and continued on his way, Deman quickly following him, while Lorin stayed with Gale, who had curled his hands into fists, eyes twitching with anger.

"Gale..?" Lorin asked cautiously in his usual soft and timid voice, as if afraid that every word would be taken the wrong way.

His friend mouthed a swear and shook his head, walking towards the group. Lorin hoped he had come to his senses and had decided to follow orders. Deep down,he knew it wasn't Gale's style. He was bold, he like to be in charge of situations and decisions, not put in a position and told to follow orders.

'He better adapt.' He thought to himself, keeping a close eye on his friend as they carried on their way. 'Or else he'll get us all into trouble.'

* * *

><p>The third floor was a lot smaller than the other two floors beneath it, around only four hundred square feet. There was only one staircase leading up to it, right in the center of the second floor and the third as well, a spiral of stone steps, just like its counterparts on the corners of the mansion.<p>

There were only four doors up on the top floor as well. The north was the study room they had been called into yesterday, the door flanked by crystal lamps that hung from the walls. The other three doors were unmarked, but Lorin guessed one of them was Master Gothitelle's own bedroom.

Auvin knocked on the door for the study, tapping his hand against the door precisely three times. He opened the door slightly, then stepped aside, his free arm gesturing to the door as he bowed to Lorin and his friends.

"Our master will see you now. Be on your best behaviour." He briefly glared at Gale, no doubt aiming the words at the impetuous Gardevoir, before straightening up and departing, disappearing down the twisting staircase.

Deman felt a little more relaxed, having already been in the study before, the smooth marble floor being swapped with soft wool carpeting as he stepped inside. A little knot of eagerness had formed inside his gut, just waiting to begin work. He felt too grateful to Master Gothitelle to do anything else.

They had been expected. Master Gothitelle sat back into his chair, hands placed together on the table, in a composed manner only someone of status could possibly have.

As soon as Deman and his friends stepped in, he looked up, his eyes displaying approval and a trace of amusement. His mouth curled into a thin, humoring smile, but it quickly disappeared once he cleared his throat.

"Excellent." He said. "All in uniform, and quite ravishing, if I may compliment."

Deman grinned, fidgeting with his paws in order to not begin giggling, as Lorin did under his breath. Only Gale did not see humour or interest in the statement.

"And why do two of us have to wear girls clothes while he," He pointed accusingly at Deman. "gets a suit?"

Maser Gothitelle just smirked evasively, then pointed at the angered Gardevoir. "Once again, title." He reminded. "Secondly, I choose clothing based on aesthetic appeal, in my eyes, and personal comfort for your benefit. Think about it, how does it feel?"

Gale pursed his lips, then shifted in his spot, before nodding begrudgingly. "It feels humiliating, but very comfortable." He paused, before adding, in a mutter. "Sir."

Deman rolled his eyes teasingly, even though he wasn't looking at his embarrassed friend. If his dress was as comfortable as his own suit, he had no reason to complain.

Master Gothitelle nodded. "Very good." He said approvingly. "And please, refer to me with my own title, Gotzin."

_Master Gotzin_. Deman played it in his head a few times, feeling a pleasant ring to the name.

'Master Gotzin.' He thought. 'Okay, so he's not harsh, incredibly wealthy, gives everyone a moniker to go by and has an odd sense of humor and apparel.' None of his observations left a negative impression on the Delphox.

Master Gotzin nodded again, then addressed them once more, this time in a formal, business-like tone. "Now, Lorin, Gale and Deman,I trust you are all ready to begin, perhaps even eager to begin your duties."

A pause followed, and unsure what to do, Deman and Lorin both nodded.

"Since this is your first day, I am not expecting your full effort, but I would like to have your total cooperation."

"Today, you three will all be assigned to duties on the ground floor. I would like you to acclimatize yourself in your environment, and get to know the titles and basic details of the rest of the staff. You have already met Auvin, and there are eleven others for you to know as well."

He paused again, Deman taking the opportunity to instill the instructions in his mind. Acclimatize. Learn. Sounded straightforward.

"There is an audio system networked throughout the building. As you are working for me, you will all be given a notice call when I require your personal..." He paused, searching for the right word. "...assistance."

Deman was a part Fire-type, so he didn't feel the cold much, but the way Master Gotzin had selected the word sent a shiver down his spine. Perhaps it was harmless, but it sounded ominous. And even though Deman believed in things invisible to the eye, he still preferred seeing what he needed to know.

Master Gotzin's hand drifted towards a panel set on his desk. There were fifteen buttons on it, three appearing to be newly added, each marked with the numbers _13_, _14_, and _15_ respectively.

His index finger pressed down, triggering the thirteenth button. A single note chimed through the speaker. "Lorin, this will be your signal."

Deman watched his friend nod. Even though he had known him for nearly ten years, he was finding it increasingly difficult to distinguish his gender. His soft, timid voice didn't aid the situation.

The fourteenth button was triggered. This time, a four-note chime played over the intercom, the chime sounding distinctly like whistling.

"Gale, this shall be your call." He said.

The Gardevoir nodded. Just like Lorin, it was hard for Deman to emasculate his friend's appearance, even though he had known him for more than half of his life. Even his notable chin, just fractionally angular, gave any indication of masculinity.

Finally, a three-note chime played, all the notes exactly the same in sound. Deman knew, even before he was told, that it would be his call. When he was told, he followed his friends' example and nodded.

"Very well then." The Master spoke. "You may now begin. Dismissed."

* * *

><p>Hours later, Gale sat between his friends outside the mansion, gratefully exchanging the cool interior for the slightly warmer, fresher and sunnier air of a mid-autumn afternoon.<p>

The mansion's floor space was slightly elevated, with a stone steps leading down onto a walking path lined with beautiful, exotic bouquets and botany, the path led to recreational facilities, such as a pristine tennis court, an outdoor pool, situated right next to a covered jacuzzi, before the paved concrete turned, almost naturally, into a smooth dirt track that led into the forest, a gorgeous cluster of trees that stretched on for miles, dotted with a colorful assortment of red, brown and orange leaves, a few cascading to the ground as they were shed in preparation for the upcoming winter.

The sights and blissful peace and quiet was a great way to unwind in the middle of the day, during the break between shifts. The three of them had gone their separate ways, despite a mutual disapproval of the plan, in order to cover as much ground as possible, seeking out the other employees while learning the ropes of the jobs they would or even might be required to do.

Once the bell had rang for their lunch break, a ninety minute period where the staff were relieved of their duties, more for relaxing and resting before the second shift, the three friends had met up, away from the other staff, and began sharing everything they had learned.

Everyone working had been doing so for at least three years, and the ages were mostly between the mid-twenties all the way until the forties, the oldest being Bethin, a Bellossom aged an elderly fifty two, who ran the kitchen with the help of Sluvern, a Slurpuff who had been working for ten years, apparently to earn money to help his wife's health complications. Deman had noted that besides the three of them, Sluvern was the next youngest, being twenty five.

"So there's us, Auvin, Bethin, Sluvern..."Lorin said, counting his fingers with every name. "Then there's Drake." Drake was a quiet Dragonite in his late twenties, who was, almost expectedly, in charge of receiving and handling mail and deliveries. He doubled as a reliably fearsome security guard, but only during the night, the only time any danger could possibly arise.

"Golaz." Deman shuddered, referring to the perpetually cranky Golduck in charge of looking after the pools and the water supply and piping. Already having been disowned by Golducks, Deman felt nervous every time he got too close to Golaz.

"Romain." Gale added, remembering the irritating Rotom in charge of electricity management. While he did his job well, so he claimed with an air of superiority and a thick accent, Gale was sure he wreaked havoc on Master Gotzin's electricity bill, having seen personally how the Rotom devoured a few kilowatts of raw electricity.

"Garth, Galvin and Gamreia." Deman offered. Two Gallades and a Gardevoir, with a only a two year difference in age between them, who did most of their work on the second floor, which was mostly meant to serve as accommodation for the Master's important guests. Apparently, there would be groups of other elites who would stay for around three days, a week at most, for business with Master Gotzin.

"That's twelve." Gale pointed out.

"That's all we've met." Lorin replied, standing up and stretching a little, shaking out some of his stiffness. His other friends stood up as well. The whole morning had been spent garnering as much information as they could, after they had tidied up their own quarters and swept through the wide and deserted hallways, but they were still missing three of staff's information, and had more tasks to get to.

"We'll just find the rest as they come." Gale said simply. "And I'm parched."He turned and headed towards the kitchen, stepping back inside.

* * *

><p>Deman headed back to his work the moment the bell rang. Not Gale, Lorin or himself had an appetite, a result of living off of very little food, and water stung his senses to much to be considered as a drink.<p>

Once Gale had left, he had been left alone with Lorin, who had giggled quietly when he did. Deman had begun to think that his friend was already used to his cross-dressing uniform, and that he had quickly grown fond of it. I certainly seemed that way.

Deman wasn't one to ask questions, and didn't bother inquiring about his friend's sharp change in personality. So he was acting all girly. It didn't matter. Not to him, at least. As long as it didn't get them into trouble, Lorin could be as feminine as he wanted to be.

The two sat on the steps in silence, an awkward one of not knowing what to say or how to break the ice. So they sat, each keeping to themselves until the bell rang. Just like how they used to act during the days where they weren't moving from slum to slum in search of food and shelter.

Deman, however, let himself get absorbed back into his work, trying to shrug off a growing uncertainty in his mind, one he didn't want to think about.

He threw down his towel down the ground, where it landed in a damp splatter of cloth. In front of him stretched the endless, empty hallway of the Northern Wing. And it was going to shine by the time he was through with it.

He placed his foot on the rag and slid it across the floor. The slick surface gave him an idea. A childish one, but the work would be a lot quicker, and a ton more fun.

* * *

><p>It took nearly half an hour, but as Deman slid across the floors for the last time, feet separated from the ground by his dampened rag, he had reached the end of the hall, and placed his paws out, arms bending as they made contact with the wall.<p>

He turned back to where he had started, and saw his work. The floor had been clean when he began, but now it was pristine, the floor so clear of any grime whatsoever that he could see his reflection in the marble.

Something behind him whistled. With perked ears, he spun on the still slick floor and looked for its source.

"Down here!" A squeaky voice exclaimed, and Deman adjusted his vision. An Azumarill, with floppy blue ears and a zigzagging tail poking out from her uniform, smiled back at him.

"You know, I've been here since I was a Marill, and I've never seen the floors so spotless." She said in awe, causing Deman to shrug in fake nonchalance, cheeks turning a shade of pink.

"Well, I do improvise." He explained, flattered by the Azumarill's words of praise. "Besides, it's my post, for now." He scratched the back of his neck, still feeling light-headed from what the Aqua Rabbit had said.

"Ah, you're one of the new kids." She said, nodding in understanding.

"I'm nineteen." Deman corrected, getting a little embarrassed again. "Technically an adolescent."

Azumarill rolled her eyes. "Still a kid to me. Especially the way you were..." She chuckled a little. ".._surfing_ over the floors."

Deman hid his face in his paws, legs wobbly with embarrassment. So someone had seen him after all. At least she didn't look like the teasing type, especially since he was about to collapse if he got any more embarrassed.

Instead, she just beamed at him, her smile even more cheery than his smile when he was at his best. "The name, around here for me, is Azette." She said, introducing herself properly. "I do the laundry around here, and that includes yours."

Deman nodded, chuckling. "So I better not get my clothes too dirty for you?"

"Try not to." She laughed, and headed past him, before pointing at a spot in the floor. "You missed that."She pointed out, without turning back, and went on her way.

Deman looked at the spot. What once would've been unnoticed was now sticking out like a sore. Deman quickly wiped his tail against it, until it shone like the rest of the marble surface.

* * *

><p>Gale hadn't heard the hissing until it was too late.<p>

The next thing he knew, he had become coiled tightly by a green, serpent-like body, only with a skin the same feel as leaves, still accompanied by a sneaky, mischievous hissing.

"Hey there, cutie." A snakish voice reached his ears, a forked tongue darting in front of his eyes. A Serperior, it was clear to Gale. Though the gender couldn't be distinguished.

"Mind letting go?" He muttered back, unamused.

The hiss faltered. "Oh, you're a male." The serpent replied, bitterly disappointed. Gale could feel the snake loosen it's grip, unwrapping its captive before staring him in the eyes. The Serperior was not just long, it was menacing and proud in stance, though the intimidation was blunted by the ill-fitting bits of attire. The maid uniform's headpiece, and what seemed to be vest devoid of holes for arms, fitted where the arms would most likely be.

"Why is it so disappointing?" Gale asked, a trace of mockery in his voice. "Lesbian, I presume?"

The Serperior's tail rattled indignantly, and with a vicious hiss, loomed over the Gardevoir. "Excuse me, pretty boy, I'm a male as well."

In other circumstances, Gale might have apologised. But instead he sighed in relief. So he and Lorin weren't the only ones cross-dressed, excluding Deman, who looked ambiguous of gender.

"_Right..._" Gale murmured, straightening his uniform. He still found it awkward, but he felt urged to keep himself presentable.

The Serperior snaked away, teasingly whipping his tail at Gale's rear, adding a hiss that was surely the equivalent of a snicker.

"Sevvy's the name. Don't forget it." He said as he drifted away.

Rubbing his backside, more angered than he was embarrassed or aroused, Gale was determined not to forget it.

"He's even worse than Romain." He growled to no one in particular. He wasn't going to cause a fight, but a grudge was formed then and there.

* * *

><p>It wasn't just the outfit Lorin was becoming overly fond of. His job was becoming coveted as well.<p>

He didn't mind that it was simple, cleaning and sorting tasks. It appealed to his neat and compulsive personality, revelling in the chance to organize and clean accordingly, noting any spot left unchecked and applying due measures to it.

He moved across the floor quickly and nimbly, his tread as light as a feather across the carpeted surfaces of the grand and enormous dining hall. It's arched ceiling, supported by searing pillars and donned with luminous, huge chandeliers made out of thousands of crystals that shone and sparked as light passed through them, forming a glittering, marvellous display of colors while bathing the room in light.

The long table running along the center of the room was both elegant and functional. It stretched out long enough to seat ten Pokemon on each side, with plenty of space in between for waiters to lean in and out, taking away dirty dishes or topping up drinks. The table itself was solid oak, with a smoothed, polished surface, and covered with a simple, though extensive, white tablecloth. While breakfasts and lunches were eaten on their own, many staff preferring to eat in the smaller, less fancy atmospheres of the kitchen or garden, dinners were, as Lorin was told, held in the hall, even when it just Master Gotzin and the rest of the staff. The Master enjoyed treating his workers, that was clear to see.

Lorin had come in to set the table for dinner, for all sixteen residents of the house. Master Gotzin sat at one end of the table, being the head of the house, with his servants along the sides. And that's how it was set, in a precise arrangement of silverware and tableware, the cutlery wrapped in napkins while the dishes shone brightly, waiting to be decorated with food. No utensil was out of place, no crease was visible in the cloth.

With the table set, Lorin exited the room, briefly glancing at the open door to the kitchen. He couldn't cook, but perhaps Bethin and Sluvern could use his help. It was almost time for dinner, set at an early time of six-thirty, with plenty of time before the sun set over the horizon. Right now, it was still a faint orange, reluctant to sink out of the sky just yet.

"They don't need help, don't worry." A voice spoke behind him, jolting the startled Lopunny into a surprised squeak.  
>Behind him was a Zoroark, slim, lean and surprisingly casual in stance given he, or perhaps she, was also a worker. Wearing a butler's suit and jacket, with a matching pair of slacks, Zoroark could've been a male, until Lorin heard a feminine growl in its throat. Then he noticed the subtle features. Smooth facial lines, long eyelashes over her startling blue-green eyes and face paint, which was actually just red fur in a coat of primarily slate-grey fur, her long hair tied back in a tidy ponytail by a clear, quartz bead.<p>

She snapped her claws together, just like any other creature would do with their fingers, and snickered light-heartedly at the girly Lopunny. Lorin found it strange, even though he was cross-dressed, to see a girl doing likewise.

"I'm Zonia. I do small tasks here and there, a supervisor of sorts." She purred, caressing a paw along Lorin's face. "You must be Lorin, pretty boy."

"How-?" Lorin asked, taken aback not just by the way she knew his name, but how she saw past his appearance.

"Please." She rolled her eyes, smirking. "I can tell a girly boy from a girl and tomboy from a boy. It's a matter of experience, not to mention I know what goes on amongst everyone who lives here, aside from the Master."

She poked his cheek, followed by the chest, and just below the waist. Lorin didn't dare move, or even show a sign of resistance. Something about Zonia, her mischief or her demeanour, made him scared to do so. He just whimpered helplessly, not out of fear but of embarrassment. He was feeling aroused, and Zonia knew it, teasing him even more.

"Ticklish, aren't yoch u?" She purred, rubbing his waist, making him shiver in anticipation, before she let go and cleared her throat, making a convincing illusion of formality after her bit of play. She winked at him, as if what had happened was their little secret.

"You know, you could be a lot of fun to play with.~" She cooed, a sneaky glint in her eyes. Without saying another word, she sped off, a flash of grey and red one moment, gone the next.

Lorin giggled once she had left, and wondered if she would know if that happened. They way she had toyed with him, treating him like an object, made him feel a strange sense of elation, and a desire for more.

It had been so long since he had felt any attraction or lust. He had always kept it hidden from Gale and Deman, but he knew he was easily driven by an urge to mate. He was a Lopunny, a very active species in that sense. And he longed for a mate. Now, he felt a chance to have one.

The dinner bell clanged, low-pitched and bellowing, snapping him out of his dreaming. It was dinner time. Fantasy could wait for a while.

He sprinted off, light and long strides back inside the dining hall.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I don't usually write this much per chapter. Usually I write only half this length. Hope it wan't too much of a wall of text. Hope you enjoyed it, and I hope my introduction of the other characters (most will have some involvement sooner or later) wasn't too sloppy. **

**And don't worry, the sexy bits will be here soon, even though I added some minor teasing to stem the wait for now. **

**Hope you enjoyed! And I do really appreciate reviews. Until next time!**


	3. Reviewing

Chapter 3: Reviewing

Lorin knew he had made a mistake when only fifteen Pokemon, including the Master, entered the hall.

Frantically, he counted everyone, fearing he had miscounted, but the number turned up as fifteen time and again. Who wasn't there?

Then he remembered one of the Pokemon that Gale had pointed out. Romain. He pinched himself for his forgetfulness. Rotoms didn't consume food, their diet consisted of solely electricity.

He quickly but neatly gathered up the extra tableware and hurriedly brought it back to the kitchen, a quick walking pace defining his speed, before placing every individual utensil and plate back into their respective shelves, each shelf lined impeccably with their clean and glistening counterparts.

If Bethin and Sluvern, wearing a maid and butler uniform respectively, showed any sign of interest, they kept it hidden, lining metal trolleys, ones built for food, with trays and pitchers.

Lorin took his seat on the left side of the table, in the chair furthest from the north end of the table, where Master Gotzin had taken his seat, flanked by Zonia and Bethin, who were closest to the table's end.

Nearest to him was Gale, sitting on his left, with Deman on the opposite side of the table, right next to who Lorin assumed to be Gamreia, a Shiny Gardevoir, and the only Shiny at the table. Gale was opposite of her, trying his best to keep his gaze fixated on his plate rather than her. Unlike him, her uniform was actually meant for her gender.

Lorin couldn't help but smile at his friend's discomfort, or his attempt to hide any signs of attraction to another member of his kind.

Before long, the dinner began, and Lorin learned a little more about his master. Master Gotzin was vegetarian, and it showed in the absence of meat on the table. Not that Lorin was complaining, himself a herbivore by default. Water and greenery was all he needed.

The meal wasn't hushed either. In a way, it felt more liking dining in a fancy restaurant rather than a mansion's dining hall. Conversation was quiet, but very casual, some jokes and smiles rising amongst personal opinions, even Master Gotzin was involved, making him feel more like a friend than their employer. Deman noticed it and smiled gratefully.

"You know, the more I think of it, the more I grow to like him." He said to Lorin, spinning his fork in his direction. Lorin couldn't help but agree.

The manner was still formal, however. Everyone seated sat with their backs straight, hands on the table and elbows at the side, using their silverware delicately, taking only small portions at a time, bringing the food to their mouths.

The meal was light, with little weight to the food, but wholesomely satisfying. Bethin and Sluvern knew their job well, and it showed in the taste of their work. Lorin doubted he had ever eaten anything as fresh or as well-seasoned before.

Pretty soon, Pokemon began to leave. Garth and Galvin were the first to do so, tucking their chairs back into place and carrying away their plates and utensils. Both looked so alike it was hard to distinguish them, save for the extra inch Garth had over his brother. Even their uniforms were identical, from their sleeveless vests to the shirts specifically tailored to accommodate their bladed arms.

Master Gotzin curtly nodded at them, letting them be excused from the room. He did likewise to Drake, whose impressive wings flapped softly and he left, keeping his short, stumpy legs just off the ground as he flew.

Golaz left next, followed by Azette, who he didn't know until Deman briefly explained her to him. As he watched her leave, he met eyes with Zonia, who winked at her with a hint of mischief, making him turn away shyly. He heard Deman giggle, which just made his cheeks warm up. The Azumarill was followed out by Sluvern, before Master Gotzin stood up, politely nodded to his subjects, and left. Auvin and Zonia did the same, then followed the Master out. Perhaps the two of them being seniors among the staff in the hierarchy had something to do with it. Zonia was a supervisor, second only to the master, and Auvin seemed to have an air of seniority emanating from him and his serious personality.

Lorin looked around. Gale, Deman, himself, Gamreia, Bethin and the Serperior he heard Gale mutter harsh things about during the meal, Sevvy. Bethin's plate was bare, clearly unused, and she hoisted her glass up, taking slow, savouring sips of crystal-clear water.

'Of course.' Lorin thought. 'She's a plant. Why would she eat anything not in the form of nutrients?' An uneasy thought came into his mind over how she prepared the meals, but he did his best to shrug it off. She had her ways, he was sure of that.

* * *

><p>Gale felt like an idiot wearing his uniform.<p>

Sitting right in front of Gamreia, whose gleaming orange eyes shone with energy every time she laughed at one of her brother's jokes, elegant yet light-hearted, he wanted to say something to her, anything to get to know her and her charming self any better than his rudimentary knowledge did, yet he felt like a fool in his dress, knowing he'd make a ridiculous impression on her if he opened his mouth.

So he sat silently, cursing inside his head, before picking up his plate and heading to the kitchen, unable to stay still for even another moment.

He placed his dishes in the sinks, stainless steel gleamed under the kitchen chandelier's light, taking stock of all the silverware in the silver tubs and the towering shelves that housed clean dishes. There were more than fifty pieces per utensil, more than the amount of seats available in the dining hall. Gale presumed it was a mentality of keeping plenty of spares.

The clock chimed, causing him to turn to the ancient, grandfather clock ticking away in the hall outside. The hands of brass pointed to indicate that the minute hand had completed a full circle, the hour hand now pointing at the number eight. Two more hours to go. Surely there wasn't much left to be done for the day. Gale hoped not, itching to get out of his dress.

* * *

><p>Deman was the last to leave the dining hall.<p>

He had waited behind, watching Gale exit, noticing his friend's unexplained vexation, before Gamreia leaned towards him.

"That's your friend, right?" She whispered, interested.

Deman nodded. "He's my friend, yes. Gale."

The Shiny Gardevoir giggled, holding the side of her chair as a precaution. She exhumed an energy, it was clear to see. "Did you say _he_? That's hilarious."

Deman blinked,puzzled by her giddy reaction. What was so funny about it? Gale was cross-dressed, but he was still male underneath, no matter how hidden his gender was. "But it's true." He insisted.

"That's what makes it funny!" She smiled back, forcing Deman to do the same, before she added: "He does look spectacular in it."

Deman played that sentence again in his head, wondering if his friend had a potential chemistry brewing with her, as he shut the grand, double doors to the dining hall. There were no knobs on the doors, just handles of pure silver accompanied by a keyhole. It was supposed to be Gamreia's duty to lock up, but she seemed hasty to depart, and handed her keys to Deman, who accepted the task in a state if bemusement.

He turned the key in the door, hearing the metallic click as it fastened itself to the other door, locking up securely. Gamreia had said the keys were to be returned to the laundry room, but she left before he could ask where that was.

He twirled the keys on his finger, the seven metal mechanisms clattering together in a chorus of clinks and clanks, standing by the massive, arched windows as tall as the walls, spilling the indoor light into the outside world through the glass, illuminating the porches and the gardens outside. A vague memory of gorgeous backyard, illuminated by a fence of colored lights, drifted through his mind. He didn't know if he was imagining it or if it was a very early recalling of his life, back when he was with his parents.

He tried not to dwell on the past. He was in the present, with the future in front of him. He didn't need wealth like he once had, he had plenty of it already, even though he hadn't been paid yet. He was surrounded, immersed, by the life he was now in. And it wasn't the life of a common man. It was the life of serving the rich, which gave him riches as well, even though he owned nothing. Nothing but himself.

He closed his eyes for a moment, letting his mind ease. The new life he had chosen, from work to riches, had quickly grown on him. A generous, kind master, showers of money he had never believed he would see, even though it wasn't his, and a new lease of life. He was determined to make the most of it.

But first, he needed to know where he could return the keys.

* * *

><p>Time flew by without Deman noticing. After minutes of wandering, he found himself in the laundry room, situated on the North Wing behind the dining hall, where he found Azette ironing uniforms amidst a wall of washing machines, rows of clothing racks and a curious selection of benches, with a row of calendars hanging above them. Azette explained to him that Zonia would wake up earlier than the others, receive duties from Master Gotzin, then write them down accordingly on the calendars, effectively giving everyone a schedule to work by. Deman mentally noted that down, and took another note to remind his friends.<p>

Near the calendars hung a key rack, where Deman hung up his keys and wished Azette good night, before creeping through the silent, pristine hallways. It felt strange -dreamlike, even- to walk through the empty hallways with floors glittering like the chandeliers overhead, with nothing but darkness lurking outside, as if waiting to devour him when the lights went out. He knew it wouldn't happen though, even if the darkness was alive. Drake would be vigilant at this time, keeping them all safe.

He turned the corner and headed to his room. About to reach out for the brass knob, it turned before he touched it, and opened, Zonia stepping out of his room and edging him out of her path.

"Pardon me." She remarked, not waiting for him to move. Deman just stood there, stunned, causing her to roll her eyes and snicker.

"Name's Zonia, Deman." She said, extending an arm. In a daze, Deman shook it, not knowing whether to question how she knew her name.

He didn't need to, as she was one step ahead of him. "I'm a supervisor around here. A personal assistant to the Master, in other words."

"Aren't we all?" Deman asked, in a way less rhetorical and more questioning. Zonia picked it up immediately and shook her head, leaning against his door.

"Not quite." She said, using her free arm to stroke his cheek, her mouth edging into a devious smirk highlighted by her face paint. "You could say I'm your superior." Deman blinked, still and wary as Zonia's paw toyed with his ears and the tufts of fur that lined it. Contrary to belief, it didn't block out his hearing, but rather sharpened it to new heights, picking up hints of magic and sounds outside a conventional range of hearing.

"If you say so." Deman said, pushing her arm aside. He could sense teasing in her actions, a naughty, perhaps sensual motive behind it, and instantly decided he wanted nothing to do with it.

Zonia turned away and crossed her arms in a pout, though she remained smirking, her eyes alight with mischief. "You're no fun." She whined teasingly.

"I'm not interested in _that_ kind of fun." Deman replied.

A moment of silence followed, before Zonia shrugged and snickered, much to Deman's annoyance. How could she be his superior if she was so casual and teasing?

"Oh, the Master asked me to pass on a welcoming gift to you." She said as she walked away, swinging her hips ever so slightly. Deman didn't even bother looking and went into his room, blowing wisps of smoke through his nose. The nerve of that Zoroark! What did she think he was, some horny little Delphox?

Deman pressed his back against the door, wringing his hands into the empty air. He had been told many times that attraction was natural, that it would come sooner or later, that he would one day have the uncontrollable urge to find a mate. Those feelings had still not surfaced, and Deman felt like they didn't even exist inside of him. In fact, acts of teasing and mating were repulsive to him, and he wanted none of it.

He moved away from his door, locking it before he did, and moved in front of the window, letting himself revel in the moonlight that shone across the floor, in an arch shaped just like the window itself.

He sat down on the floor, taking off his suit and dress top, tossing them in a neatly folded stack, landing them at the foot of his bed. He bent his legs, knees to the side, feet crossed over each other, and closed his eyes. Time to review, a daily tradition of his.

"Began working today. Received our clothes and duties, gathered knowledge of other staff whilst fulfilling our tasks. Zonia attempted to seduce me. Failed."

His eyes opened. Zonia. She said she had left something in his room. A gift from the Master, she said. He rose to his feet, then saw the small parcel resting between his pillows, almost sinking into the mattress between them.

Deman leapt onto the bed and scooted towards it, picking up the small, light package with his hands. He brought a finger towards the sealing tape, and with a measured, precise channelling, set his index finger alight, melting through the tape slowly and carefully.

Curiosity was starting to build inside his chest. The last time he had received a gift, it had been an old, simple, metal ring from Gale. It wasn't valuable in terms of money, but it meant the world to the Delphox. He still wore it on his right pinkie.

He opened the cardboard flaps, slighty singed by his unorthodox opening method, and peeked inside. A leather bound notebook, a light beige in color, sat side by side with two auburn pens, each trimmed with stainless steel. One was a fountain pen, the other a simpler ballpoint. He spilled the contents onto his bed, then set the box aside, placing the notebook on his lap. Opening the cover, he flipped through the pages, with the first twelve devoted to forming a calendar, before they all became blank and lined, each headed with spaces for the date.

"It's a journal." He smiled to himself, picking out the ballpoint pen and picking the first blank page. Now he could write down his daily reviews in it. Without wasting time, he began.

"Thank you, Master." He said in gratitude.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Need to work on thoughts from a character's POV. . Hopefully, I'll get better with practice. And I'd better, since I plan to get smexy in the next chapter. Hope you're looking forward to it~**


	4. A Morning Surprise

Chapter 4: A Morning Surprise

* * *

><p><em>Day 2<em>

_ Relatively uneventful. Master Gotzin has finished our briefings, so now we report to the laundry room in the mornings, check our tasks and set about completing them accordingly. Somehow, I happen to end up working alone more often then not, usually Azette is all I have for company when I work with others. Not that I'm complaining, as she's nice and cheery, almost radiating happiness. Can't not smile around her, even if she makes me feel all fuzzy and embarrassed with some of her remarks._

_Spent my break in the library. I didn't know we had one until Azette informed me of it. Apparently, it's on the east of the third floor, near the Master's study. It's a beautiful little place, with packed shelves of books thick and thicker standing shoulder to shoulder. The musty smell of paper was intoxicating, it just seemed to draw me in. It even made up for the fact that Zonia's situated in the lbrary during her empty slots in her timetable. Good gracious, is she insufferable with her teasing. I just wanted to read, for crying out loud!_

_Life around here no longer feels awkward. Perhaps it's because I've become familiarised with my surroundings and its occupants. That's probably it. It's now just enjoyable, able to work for my new life of luxury. It's fantastic._

_Thank you, Gale, for agreeing to do this._

_~D.O.L_

* * *

><p><em>Day 3 Woke up to find a note near my door, no doubt slid under there during the night. A notice from Romain to ease up on power usage. Unbelievable. I don't even use electricity, or so I thought. Then I realized my washroom's light had been on since the first night. Perhaps the cocky Rotom was right. Perhaps.<em>  
><em>I don't even know why the light was on.<em>  
><em>Worked alongside Lorin today for the first time, competing to see who could clean the hallways quicker, and it was nice to be back with an old friend. He's settled in well, so it seems, though his attraction to his dress is a big question mark to me. I assume we're just all odd in some way. But he gets on with his work, and seems to really enjoy it. I can imagine he genuinely does, as it appeals to his tidy nature. It's like giving him his hobby to make a living. Not so sure Gale is all that comfortable here, then again, he hates his dress. But then again, he hates a lot of things. That's why me and Lorin saw him as our leader. His hatred made it easy to distinguish good decisions from bad. Though, me and Lorin don't agree with him on this. We like it here.<em>  
><em>He'll just have to adapt.<em>  
><em>Speaking of adaptation, I still need to learn how to use this fountain pen. The ink just bled through twenty pages, at least.<em>

_~D.O.L_

* * *

><p>Lorin snapped awake almost on impulse, clouds hanging low in the skyline outside. The usually bright mornings seemed dim, the sun hiding behind the walls of fluff in the skies.<br>He hopped out of bed. What day was it, he thought to himself, not knowing what it was apart from his fourth day in the household. The journal he had been gifted with helped keep track of days, but he never seemed to put pen to paper for anything more than quick notes.  
>He tossed back his sheets and yawned, stretching his legs off the bed and letting them touch the floor. It felt awfully chilly on the cold morning, causing him to tentatively lift them back onto the warm, mattress. In that moment, he wished he had some socks, but there were none he owned or that were available to him.<p>

Something about socks felt strangely compelling, and it wasn't bodily warmth this time. It was that visual appeal, the sexual attraction associated with it. Ever since Zonia had fooled with him on that first night before dinner, something close to a primal urge had been festering in his mind, growling at him in demands for satisfaction. And it wouldn't leave him, either.

He needed to be relieved.

Slipping on his dress, one of his two identical uniforms for when the other was to be cleaned by Azette, he hurried outside, eager to find anyone, if not to relieve him then to at least distract his lusting mind.

Almost hopping across the polished hallways, such was his graceful, silent stride, he slipped into the laundry room, the machines humming quietly in a mechanical symphony, no doubt having been left for an overnight cycle. Not a soul, though he could at least check his schedule for the day.

"Tend to the grounds, make sure everything's in place." He read aloud, detecting a pattern in his schedules. Apart from the occasional switch of duty or place, most of the day's tasks were becoming routine. Not that it bothered him too much, since he enjoyed his regular tasks.

"Up early, aren't you?" Zonia's voice purred behind him, causing him to freeze still, a chill running down his spine, in a mix of fear and anticipation.

Cautiously, Lorin turned around, then in a blur, found himself pinned to the wall, two paws at his shoulders that threatened to push him through the concrete. He let out a surprised squeak, his heart hammering in his chest. He was cornered, and Zonia's malevolently devious smile confirmed it.

"You know, most don't wake up around here for at least another hour." She chided, her eyes aglow with devilish intentions. Her snout pressed up against Lorin's, causing him to shut his eyes and whimper childishly.

She clenched his shoulders harder, digging into his fur with her talon-like claws, gleaming crimson like blood, mean and painful to the touch but not yet piercing flesh. She was testing him, toying with him like a predator who like to play with her food.

And yet, Lorin didn't resist, or even try to. It wasn't just being cornered, or being outmatched in physical prowess. The pain, his burning skin and nerves that screamed at him, begging for release, made him crave for more. His mind was clouded with pain, but also with pleasure.

Zonia could sense it, too. "Ooh..._someone's_ a masochist~" She snickered, jabbing her knee into the Lopunny's chest, causing him to shriek in surprise and pain, wincing in a hushed quiver. He was visibly shaking now, and that just encouraged Zonia to beat him harder, slapping him across the cheek.

Lorin saw a flash of white as her paw swiped across his face, momentarily blinding and searing his cheek with pain. And that wasn't the only spot of red and pink across his face. He was blushing hard now, his primal instincts awakened and charging him with adrenaline. The rush of blood in his body was like nothing he had felt before, an enjoyment beyond his knowledge.

He could feel his sheath quiver, an experience he hadn't felt for weeks, not since he had experienced his last wet dream in a city pain wasn't just enjoyable, it was arousing. He didn't want it to stop.

He felt himself being dragged down, thrown to the hard floor with no mercy or concern on Zonia's behalf. The Zoroark leaned over him, knees pushing into his chest while she growled in his ears, sending chills of fear into his emotional mix of pleasure, pain and lust.

"Does that feel good?" She spoke mockingly, viciously driving her elbow into his crotch. Lorin flinched and lurched forward, screaming into the muffling paw that Zonia quickly blocked his mouth with. He could feel tears in his eyes, black spots of nausea forming it the edge of his vision. The pain travelled down his body, and he could feel something began to harden inside his sheath.

Zonia took a quick glance down and snickered, satisfaction creeping across her contorted smirk.

"I suppose you need that relieved...~" She growled teasingly, gently rolling up the trim of his dress, exposing his slender, lithe and furred legs, pushing them up to the small bulge that was now visible in the fabric.

She lifted her paw from his mouth, letting him gasp for breath desperately, inhaling raggedly before breathing out with equal shakiness.

"Wha...?" He shuddered, looking on at his abuser. Was she really going to go ahead and do what he wanted? Did he want it as badly as he thought? His mind was in conflict, not sure if it really wanted it's relief.

To his surprise, Zonia looked up at him with a smile that was nearly apologetic. "Hey, I laid a beating on you, I might as well make up for it." She tried to sound sincere, but Lorin knew she wasn't genuinely apologising. She knew he had enjoyed the torture, and now she was going to finish off what she started.

She lifted up his dress to waist level, where it was held from folding up further by his silk belt. She eyed up her prize, the tapered, pink muscle of Lorin's feral member, protruding stiffly from his furry body.

"Wow, I didn't even do that much to you." She giggled, as if she hadn't really been trying. Lorin, through his hazy thoughts, unable to think much as his body screamed for release, vaguely assuming she hadn't tried hard at all.

She leaned in close, her hand inches away from his shaft, her intentions clear as day. She brought her hand a little closer, Lorin closing his eyes as he waited for the touch, but when it came, his eyes flew open with a gasp and a lurch.

Zonia hadn't just touched him, she had enveloped his shaft with her own mouth! The cold, wet touch of her lips and tongue blew him away, all his nerves screaming with pleasure.

He never stood a chance. With no sexual experience, he climaxed almost immediately, hesitantly moaning with pleasure and uncertainty as his member ejaculated into the waiting Zoroark's mouth. His face flushed with blush and cried out shakily, his member throbbing, slick and pumping.

The moment ended rather abruptly, the burst of semen emptied out immediately. Zonia's lips parted, and she brought herself off of the drained Lopunny. Her face was bright with blush, and her eyes were shining with content, licking her lips like she had just taken the greatest taste in the world.

"Wow, you didn't last five seconds." She giggled, brushing her hair absently with one hand while the other wiped off drops of semen dripping off Lorin's length.

He didn't respond. He couldn't even form words. His mind was still processing what had just happened, disbelieving but racked with pleasure and relief. His heart started slowing down, his breaths became more controlled, and his stiff length, which had gone limp shortly after it had emptied its contents, had begun to retract itself.

"That...was...unbelievable." He panted, breathless. Zonia pulled his dress back down and giggled, full of false innocence.

"Enjoyed it, didn't we?" She smirked, straightening out his dress for him while she rubbed his cheeks, more teasing and affectionate rather than harsh this time. Lorin just nodded, speechless.

"Well, there's a lot more to it than that, you know." She told him, tapping his cheek with a claw. "Maybe if you prove yourself, we can take it a bit further."

Lorin blushed feverishly. Further? He knew she was toying with him now, seeing how he reacted, but he could also sense that she meant it, that there was still more to come, that she would gladly seize another opportunity to repeat what she had just done, maybe even more. The thought alone made him giggle.

"Uh...okay." He stuttered, not quite sure what to say. "Thank you, though." He added, rising slowly to his feet. His chest and shoulders ached, his body still felt tired yet oddly refreshed, just like his mind.

Zonia pinched his cheek playfully. "No problem, little girly." She winked, encouraging him to pick up on the act.

Lorin grinned and played along. "Any time, sir." He replied, then they both burst out in laughter.

* * *

><p>Lorin stayed in the laundry room a little while longer after that, sitting on top of the running washing machine, contemplating on what had happened.<p>

Zonia had brutalised him, beating him almost senseless. What had she called him? A masochist?

She used her beating to arouse him, then used it to her advantage, getting her chance to perform a lewd action. Reality fell onto Lorin. He and her had just had sex, in a way. It wasn't quite the way he had expected it to be - What was it called? Foreplay? - , but it had been immense. The extreme sense of pleasure he had felt, it was like it had come with the force of a flood, and engulfed his body and mind in its grip, nearly drowning him in it.

He didn't quite know whether to feel pleased, embarrassed or ashamed about what had happened. It had all happened so fast, even now he was still reeling from it, trying to make sense from the events. It did feel amazing, yes, but he had plunged into it with almost no knowledge of it, or the Pokemon he had engaged with. But he wanted it, and so did Zonia.

'_Perhaps it was instinctive?'_ He thought. _'A natural thing? Aren't Pokemon supposed to breed? Even if what I did wasn't breeding?'_

His thoughts were snapped by a chime. There seemed to be a grandfather clock in every room, each an ancient relic of time and beauty. This time, the hands pointed in an angle, indicating the time had reached seven in the morning. Right now, everyone would be awake or waking, and be heading towards his location for a look at their schedule.

He got up, bounding off the metal top of the machine, and shrugged away his thoughts. He could think about it all later, what he should be feeling and why he was feeling it. But right now, it was time to start working.

Some way to start the morning.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: You all knew Lorin was going to be the first to have sex, didn't you? Anyways, there's my first bit of NSFW, and there should be more where that came from.**


	5. Personal Concerns

**Did you all enjoy the last chapter? I hope you did, because the next chapter will be similar as well.**

**And if you didn't, well, the story goes SFW again by chapter 7, for a while. Ehehe...**

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><p><span>Chapter 5: Personal Concerns<span>

It didn't take long for Gale and Deman to see that Lorin was acting strange.

It was in his body language, painfully visible to their eyes. The way he walked, talked, or tried to avoid eye contact or discussion with them, it screamed out silently that something had happened to him.

Gale tried his best to not make any approach confrontational, even though with every attempt to discover what was on Lorin's mind failed, infuriating after years of transparency between the three of them.

He had followed Deman to the library during the mid-day break, fed up with Lorin's uncharacteristic stubbornness and urged to discuss the matter with his other friend.

That almost didn't happen, as he had to make sure the Delphox didn't get absorbed into his selected book. He didn't grab a snack or any food during the break either, and Gale assumed knowledge had become Deman's diet whenever he could have it.

He snapped his fingers for the fourth time, jolting his friend back into reality once more.

"Huh?" Was the Delphox's response, dropping his open book to the table with a clap, a confused look on his face.

Gale frowned. "Deman. Focus." He said impatiently. "I can't get through to Lorin today, and I'm wondering what's gotten into him."

Deman thought it over for a few seconds, a finger tapping his chin, then shrugged and reached for his book again, Gale swiping his hand away from it with frustration.

"What?" Deman asked defensively, his voice being raised just a fraction. "This is Lorin we're talking about. You know he's sensitive, and he gets shaken easily. Anything could've happened!"

"That's what had me concerned!" Gale shouted, banging a fist against the table's surface, striking so hard Deman's book bounced off the table momentarily. He glared daggers at his friend, a look that even in a dress looked intimidating.

Deman wasn't going to be shaken easily, especially not by his friend. His outbursts of anger weren't anything out of the ordinary.

"Gale," He spoke, lowering his voice before the argument got out of hand. "I get it, I don't like this any more than you do. But yelling about it won't solve this, especially with Lorin. You have to be patient with him."

Gale shut his eyes and breathed deeply, hands pressed against the table. "Fine." He sneered, standing up straight. "But you better be right about this." He turned his back to his friend, and walked out.

* * *

><p>Deman knew better than to argue with Gale when his mind was set. He simply returned to his book, intending to reabsorb himself in the pursuit of knowledge.<p>

'_You aren't exactly one for empathy, I presume?_' Deman replayed a questioned he had asked Gale years ago, back when they were still first-stage evolutions. Gale was fiercely adamant, which made him quite dislikable at times, but he usually had a good sense of judgement, so Deman and Lorin never argued too hard with him. And he was a leader by nature. He had a way of making instant decisions, or pushing himself and his friends to new limits. Deman knew he wouldn't be where he was today without him, and he'd be a lot worse off, but he had always had a slight resentment against that fiery temperament.

He went back to reading, the new information washing his thoughts deep into his mind. Deman had loved reading, even when it was just roadside signs or package labels. It just grew from there, and he retained almost everything that was printed in words.

His eyes followed the paragraphs intently, absorbing every letter like a sponge. The book he was reading was an aged hardcover with the title of _Pokemon Biology: An Analysis_ in gold lettering on the cover, with the author's name, Alexander Courbain, written underneath. Deman could tell it was a human who had written the book, even though he had never met one in person. According to his knowledge, they either didn't live anywhere near or no longer existed.

"Pokemon fascinate scientists with their lack of excretory matter." He mouthed, words silently leaving his lips. "Many theories have been brought forward to explain this mystery, but it seems as if all food and drink ingested by Pokemon are full absorbed and assimilated by their bodies, producing no urinary of fecal materials."

Deman had known that for a huge portion of his life, unable only to phrase it in words. The whole human instinct of using bathrooms was lost on Pokemon, who only used those body parts for reproduction, as far as he knew. Sexual reproduction was not a topic he specialised in, nor was he was keen on learning more about it.

* * *

><p>Gale was fed up with waiting for an answer. The bell had yet to ring, and he couldn't meander about without something to do.<p>

He lashed out at a target only he could see. The nerve of Deman! Gale was sickened by the way he had reacted to his thoughts about Lorin, so callous and unconcerned. He should've thrown the book in the fox's face.

"His friends should mean more to him than those stupid books." He muttered, as he skulked through the hallways, his small feet leaving almost no trace of his movement. He drifted past the main door, a towering frame of solid wood that opened from the middle in the outward swing that only double doors could do. He recalled how unnerving it was at first, the gateway to the life he was now in, full of uncertainty. And the feeling wasn't eased when Master Gotzin had answered the door himself. Gale hadn't seen him that serious ever since that very first day. Perhaps he had been assessing them back then, debating whether they were suitable for the openings or not.

Gale shook his head and turned around, spotting Lorin at the end of the hallway, looking back at him with a raise of the hand, a sign for him to walk over. Reluctantly, though he didn't know why it felt so, he met up with his friend.

'_This can't be real_', he thought. '_I've been trying to talk to him all morning and now he's the one wanting to talk to me._'

"What do you want?" He spat out, folding his arms crossly. "_Now_ you want to say something?"

Lorin sighed and nodded, looking him in the eyes, trying to keep a straight face, though he couldn't hide a trace of guilt in his expression.

"I should probably tell you what's been going on."

* * *

><p>"YOU DID WHAT?!"<p>

The two of them were in Lorin's room, still as tidy as it had been on the first night, with the curtains drawn down in order to keep the sunlight out.

Gale stared at his friend in disbelief, shock and fury. If he hadn't known him so well, he might've put his fist in a few places.

"Gale, calm down." Lorin whispered hushedly, gesturing for him to keep his voice quiet.

Gale couldn't believe his ears, or his eyes. His body trembled with anger, ready to break the first thing it came into contact with, white knuckles and jittering limbs that would've cracked a pipe of metal in half.

"Calm down?!" He shouted incredulously. "Calm down?! How can you say that?!"

"Because what I did hasn't affected me that much." Lorin calmly replied. "I'm still myself."

"Spare me." Gale growled back. "I don't want to hear another word from you, you whore." It hurt to say the last word, spat it out with so much venom in his voice anyone else would've backed away quickly from him.

Yet Lorin remained calm, hands on his lap, ashamed rather than angry at his friends words.

"Gale, please..." He pleaded. "You and I are very different." He paused, waiting for his friend to look up at him, his scarlet eyes tight with anger.

"This has been on my conscience for a while." He continued. "It's gotten too difficult to hold back my urges as I've grown older. Just think about what I am."

Somewhere in Gale's mind, in a mental storm as fierce as the winds that were his namesake, an understanding formed. Hadn't he seen his friend act strangely before, in a fit of discomfort and longing? Hadn't his friend gone through wet dreams with an alarming frequency? Hadn't he heard somewhere that Pokemon, mostly those of the Field group, went through heat cycles incredibly quickly, only to have them come back very soon? Lorin wasn't a girl, no matter how feminine he might appear, but perhaps males were excessively fertile? He didn't know, but he couldn't relate.

"I guess it would be wrong of me to choose your path." He sighed after a long wait, a trace of defeat in his voice. "But even if it's nature's pull, try and restrain yourself a little?" He paused. "Or at least don't tell me about it."

Lorin nodded, then bounded forward, in a quick, springing leap from his bed, and wrapped his arms around his friend. It wasn't an aesthetic hug, as if saying everything would be fine, it was an embrace of comfort, no matter how badly Gale's protruding chest horn dug into his body. Lorin couldn't bear to see his best friend look so lost and upset. It wasn't like the Gale he had once known.

"I'll do my best." He whispered soothingly, trying to cling on as Gale broke the embrace, dusting off his uniform. He seemed disinterested in talking any more about the matter. Lorin couldn't blame him, his own confession and change being so sudden as well.

* * *

><p>Gale didn't speak much for the rest of the day, that's what Deman noted. He didn't even look like his usual self. He looked more like a shadow than anything else. And Deman found out why rather abruptly.<p>

The two of them had passed each other in the hallway an hour before dinner, Deman swerving his mop across the floors with easy strokes, adding a new layer of shine to the floor with every brush of the damp mop head. It was conventional, unlike his previous experiments, but it was substantially easier on his body.

He almost didn't see Gale, he had been so quiet. It was only the careless swing of the handle, which hit the Gardevoir in the face, that the two even noticed each other.

"Damn you." Gale cursed, rubbing the side of his jaw, which was now highlighted by light scar of red.

A quick apology followed, then Deman asked what was wrong, seeing how visibly upset his friend looked.

"Nothing." Gale lied, before letting out a frustrated sigh. "Just learnt that Lorin is more sexually active than a stripper. Nothing major."

Taken aback, Deman blinked multiple times, believing what Gale had said had been a harsh joke, but the grave look in the Gardevoir's eyes said otherwise.

"It makes sense, but still...wow." Deman said, unsure how to react. "At least you're exaggerating."

Gale raised an eyelid, inquisition sneaking onto his face.

"Gale, I can read you like a book." Deman huffed, unimpressed by his friend's reaction. "What you said strayed partly from the truth it was based on. You're upset, confused and slightly repulsed, and that makes you angry." He waited, watching his friend roll his eyes. "And that dismissive roll of the eyes is a sign that you know I'm right, and you don't want to accept it."

Gale's shoulders sagged, confirming that Deman's theory was right. "I hate you when you talk like that." He muttered. "Because you're usually right."

He put his head to his hand, like he was checking for a fever, then sulked away without another word. Deman wasn't an aggressive Pokemon, but he felt tempted to slap his friend square in the face, hopefully knocking sense into him.

Why did his friend have to lock himself up like that? Couldn't he accept reality without getting upset or angered? He knew Gale wasn't full of empathy, but what annoyed him most was that the Gardevoir didn't even try to gain any.

Why couldn't he just try to adapt?

* * *

><p>Lorin was in the dining hall long before anyone else.<p>

It was his turn to keep track of the keys, and with a half hour to go until dinner time, he decided to go ahead and open up the hall.

Bethin and Sluvern were on their own tasks, cooking for dinner, and didn't object when Lorin came by to collect silverware for the table. Aroma wafted through the air, so attractive that Lorin had to resist asking for an early sample of dinner.

The table had been set minutes later, and Pokemon began to flock in one after the other. First it was the Gallades and Gamreia, who were typically the earliest, followed by Golaz, who spent a lot of his time out of sight, his position keeping him occupied and alone.

Gale and Deman arrived, trying not to look at each other, a surprise to Lorin, who felt a twinge of worry. Had they fought recently?

They took their seats and looked downwards, Gale in shame, Deman in disgust. Lorin kept his mouth shut, not risking to set them off with the wrong words. He shifted in his seat, moving a little towards the right, not wanting to spark an argument.

The rest of the Pokemon soon took their seats, the table set and laden with dinner, although Zonia and the Master, who were still in absence. Puzzled, Lorin would've asked if it wasn't for the tense atmosphere around him.

Zonia arrived rather hastily, then stood at the head of the table, where Master Gotzin usually sat. Her face was all business, none of the naughty smirks or winks that Lorin had accustomed her to.

She spoke in a clear, levelled and concise tone. "I regret to inform all with my news. The Master will not be joining us tonight."

Everyone nodded and looked down slightly, as if it was in respect, while Zonia took her seat. Everyone seemed disappointed, but it looked like the absence occurred rather frequently.

Lorin didn't feel comfortable with it at all. He was in the dark over why, and he wanted to know, more out of concern that anything else. But until he could, he began dining and hoped no one noticed his worry. The vegetarian course had become staple for the menu, and Lorin knew better than to complain about a selection he enjoyed.

* * *

><p>It was just after ten, with the working hours completed and the others retreating to their quarters for their well-deserved rest, that Lorin snuck upstairs, careful not to make any sudden or harsh noises, hopping up the swivelling staircases and gliding across the hallway floors. The second floor was somewhat different in layout, with hallways that ran along the exterior while two passages cut through the middle of the floor plan, crossing each other as they did, with the final staircase suitably placed in the intersection.<p>

Lorin slipped off the last step and caught himself before he fell, holding in a yelp of surprise. He had come too far to be noticed by making noise.

He got used to the darkness that shrouded the third and final floor. Unlike the previous floors, there were no windows in the halls, the only light coming from the gentle glows of the lamps and lights downstairs, and, as Lorin quickly spotted, the Master's study, light sneaking out from underneath the door.

He crept over to the door, hesitant to knock. He wanted to know, but he didn't want to intrude.

'_Be brave._' He mentally scolded himself. '_The Master can see reason, you know._'

He shut his eyes as he knocked on the door, his presence now known, and waited. A voice, hinting of pain, spoke from the other side.

"Come in."

With a quick, albeit gentle, opening of the door, Lorin entered, quietly shutting the door behind him. Master Gotzin was at his table, his eyes creased and face mildly contorted, his hand drifting away from a labelled container holding a supply of pills. Medication.

Lorin cautiously approached, his presence unchallenged, and bowed respectfully.

"Master?" He asked quietly, nervous about asking his questions. "Are you sick?"

It was blunt and not well-phrased, the words just coming out without much thought. Lorin wanted to kick himself for asking so impetuously.

Master Gotzin didn't seem to mind. Instead, he smiled sympathetically at the Lopunny's question. He didn't seem wary, only warm and welcoming, despite the discomfort he was in.

"Indeed I am." He responded, his voice still showing signs of pain. "It's been, well, a chronic inconvenience."

"Is this why we did not see you tonight, Master?" Lorin asked, again too quick for his own liking. Kicking himself suddenly felt more appealing again.

Master Gotzin nodded. "It happens occasionally, my absence. Sadly, my condition prevents me from attending from time to time." He smiled at Lorin, appreciating the concern. "Since I know you are a very caring Pokemon, an attribute I haven't seen in abundance for a very long time, I will tell you about it."

Lorin nodded, slightly flattered but eager to listen.

Master Gotizn cleared his throat. "My condition is one of the nervous system, which causes such pain in my body that becomes numbing, making it very difficult for me to move without experiencing severe pain." He paused, a little regretful. "It was not hereditary, but it did fester as I failed to realize it in time, and has been able to be cured fully. I require daily medication, but it has not fully solved my predicament."

Lorin nodded, wanting to feel some empathy for his master. He wanted to do something more, rather than just asking questions.

"Is there something I can do to help, Master?" He offered.

The Master smiled, once more in appreciation. "It is very kind of you, Lorin. Sadly, there is not much that can be done about the situation." He closed his eyes briefly and nodded. "Although perhaps you can assist in other ways."

Lorin tilted his head, puzzled. "Master, what do you mean by other ways?"

Master Gotzin smirked, accusingly looking at Lorin. "I can feel something in you, forgive me for letting my Psychic senses wander." He pointed at Lorin's dress, on a spot on his thighs. "I can sense the remnants of seminal fluids in the fabric."

Lorin blushed brightly, surprised and embarrassed. He didn't even know the residue of his morning experience was still lingering!

"I assume that's why Zonia seemed so excited this morning." Master Gotzin added.

Lorin couldn't bear it anymore, hiding his burning face in his hands. Two and two had been put together.

"Normally, I wouldn't give an option, but your assistance will only be based on your consent." The Master offered.

Lorin looked up, stunned. Consent? What was Master Gotzin meaning? What went on in his mind? He had a feeling he knew what the Master was implying, and he didn't know what to feel in response.

"Are you...asking me to sleep with...you?" He asked hesitantly.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Internets to those who can guess where this is going. Until next time. c;**


	6. Personal Assistance

**Sorry for the wait on this juicy bit, it just took me a while to find the flow of writing a more smexy chapter, especially since I had exams to focus on. ^^"**

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><p><span>Chapter 6: Personal Assistance<span>

Lorin wasn't sure what was more surprising, his Master's request or the fact that he felt curious and eager to experience it for himself.

He didn't even question whether what he was about to do was right, his mind was in autopilot, driven by hormones and the primal urges of lust. What Zonia had done to him in the morning hadn't been enough to quench it.

With a shaky voice, he had accepted the Master's offer, trying not to sound overly excited, and hoping Master Gotzin couldn't detect it either. Then, he was standing in the Master's room, vaguely lit by the soft light of flourescent lamps, seated on a luxuriously plush mattress that made up a lavender, four poster bed, which took up the most space in the relatively small room. Lorin noted that the space was even smaller than his own living quarters.

The dresser on the right side of the bed, sandwiched between the frame and the wall, held two bottles, one was water, the other was an oil of a sort.

Sitting next to him, Master Gotzin, wearing a bathrobe tied at the waist with a belt of cloth, laced his fingers through Lorin's, causing the Lopunny to blush brightly, a soft giggle escaping his mouth. He was being teased, and he liked it.

"I'll ask again." Master Gotzin said. "If you do not want this, just speak up." His words were clear and honest. He wasn't forcing Lorin into what they were about to do.

Lorin shook his head. It wasn't just eagerness for the new experience, it was a sense of loyalty he was blindly following. He couldn't refuse his master, especially after what he had confessed his condition so honestly. It was a sign of trust.

"I'm but a maid. I will follow my master's wishes." He affirmed softly, ready to fulfill whatever was asked of him.

Master Gotzin only smile back, flattered by the loyalty.

"Very well." He said, pulling his hand free very gently, laying it aside on the mattress. He brought his legs up, laying them onto the bed as well, sitting on his knees. "I intend to please both of us tonight. Firstly, this requires that we remove our garments.

Lorin understood immediately. Master Gotzin was asking to be undressed. Nodding and leaning forward, Lorin undid the Master's belt, slow, careful movements of the hand until the belt went limp, before tossing the garment aside, then parted the robe.

Master Gotzin smirked in approval. "Very good."

He wasn't clothed beyond his robe, and Lorin's eyes fixated on his body. The Master's skin was a shade of lightened purple, covering a medium-build body that was in fair shape, a slight bulge of muscle on his arms was visible, but Lorin's vision dropped downwards, focusing on the thick, humanoid penis, the same color as the Master's skin, that was slowly erecting.

Just the sight of it caused Lorin to blush, and he felt his own member beginning to harden as well. Why did he feel so attracted?

"Have you ever made out?" Master Gotzin asked abruptly. Lorin shook his head, straightening up again.

"Why do you ask?"

Lorin didn't have time to react. With a swift set of motions, Master Gotzin wrapped his arms around the Lopunny, leaning in close as his lips made contact with Lorin's, and with closed eyes, slid his tongue inside.

Lorin withheld a gasp and felt his cheeks warm further. Instinctively, he began moving his own tongue, fighting for control with the Master. The slippery caresses of tongue sliding against tongue was a sensation he hadn't experienced, but it felt amazing. He coiled his own arms around his Master, their bodies warmly rubbing against each other as they began to kiss more passionately, relishing the tastes of each other's tongues and mouths.

The act was only broken by Lorin's moaning, repeating as his member began to ache, on the verge of releasing again. Releasing each other from their grips, they straightened up, giving their tongues one last lick, their faces bright with blush.

"My my..." Master Gotzin breathed in awe. "You're quite talented, even without experience."

Lorin only giggled, a mischievous sound that was an urge to continue the little act of lovemaking. He wasn't thinking about his actions, he just wanted more of them, even if he had to perform them himself.

"Master, please." Lorin said. "Do not flatter a simple maid." He dropped his voice into a seductive whisper, batting his eyelids.

_"Use me."_

Reaching for the bottle of oil, Master Gotzin pulled his hand back, changing his mind. "If you insist." He shrugged dismissively, sitting on the bed with his legs open, his humanlike member long and stiff. "I won't be lubricating myself then. And I know you know what to do."

Lorin did indeed know. He had only one opening, and though he had no experience, he wanted, almost desperately, to experience the sensations of sex, even if his primary goal in doing so was to please his master.

He carefully positioned himself, knees at Master Gotzin's side, his backside just gracing the Master's shaft, the two cheeks sliding around it. His member, just like the Master's, was throbbing, eager for pleasure.

"Oh, stop stalling, my little maid." Master Gotzin teased, eyeing up Lorin's throbbing shaft. "You clearly want it."

Lorin nodded in agreement and took a deep breath, bracing for the unknowns that he was about to discover, the head of Master Gotzin's cock pressing intrusively against his opening.

"Master, hold me." He whined playfully, his hands clutching the Gothitelle's side as he threw patience out the window and took the member into his rear, moaning loudly as the thick rod stretched out his cavern. It hurt, a burning sensation as his muscles were stretched to their limit, squeezing themselves around the intrusive member.

Master Gotzin placed his hands on Lorin's hips, coaxing him to relax. "You're too stiff. Relax and enjoy the flow." He soothed.

Lorin didn't know how he could relax, but slowly his sphincter muscles unclenched little by little as more girth slid into his backside. The pain had begun to subside, replaced by mounds of enjoyment as his nerves were stimulated.

As his passage continued to open, stretching to its maximum, Lorin panted, trying to control his breath. He felt his cavern shrink as the Master pulled out, but before he could question it, he felt it slide deeper again. The action was repeated rhythmically, getting a little faster, a little deeper with every thrust.

Lorin closed his eyes, moaning in symphony with his master as the thrusts became harder and faster, revelling in the sensation his body was giving him as it was pounded repeatedly, the pain now completely gone, hidden under waves of pleasure that grew every time the master's member thrust in, his backside slapping hushedly against Master Gotzin's thighs.

"It's been so long since I've felt something like this." Master Gotzin whispered between his deep, pleasured sighs,his warming shaft giving a sign that he was nearing his peak. "I...I may release soon."

The prospect made its way to Lorin's subconscious and excited him. If just being penetrated and pounded made his insides felt amazing beyond words, he couldn't wait to feel what they would be like coated with ejaculation.

"Please do, Master~" He pleaded, tilting his head up as he took control of the the rythym, raisng and dropping his hips as he rode his master's shaft, his inner walls screaming in pleasure at him.

"Yes Master, moan louder!" He breathed gleefully as Master Gotzin's breath escaped him in deep exhales and sounds dripping with enjoyment. "Fill me with your seed!"

He didn't even know why he chose those words, but as he slammed his rear down one more time, both he and Master Gotzin cried out in release. Lorin had timed his move perfectly, his rear fully encasing his master's length as it climaxed, shooting streams of warm, sticky semen all over his cavern, making his body heat rise and shiver, lost in haze of lust.

It was a good ten seconds, but it felt like hours of nonstop pleasure, before the climax curtailed, the last drops of semen escaping into Lorin's rectum, leaving his walls coated, warm and sticky.

He finally opened his eyes, his vision fuzzy from te experience, and stared down at his Master's face, which was coated with blush, sweat, and embarrassingly for Lorin, splattered with white fluid that he knew was his own semen. The sensation of the climax had been too much for him.

His lips were slightly parted, breathing in sync with his heaving chest, his hands falling to the bed. He look as he exhausted as Lorin felt.

* * *

><p>The warm feeling inside didn't leave, and that's how Lorin wanted it to be.<p>

Shortly after lifting himself off of Master Gotzin, he settled into covers, sharing body with his partner, their bare bodies embracing each other under the sheets.

Master Gotzin said nothing over having his face ejaculated, giving Lorin the impression that he had actually enjoyed it. Now cleaned of any trace of mess, Master Gotzin dreamily stared into his eyes, full of affection.

"Enjoyed yourself?" He asked quietly.

Lorin nodded, having no words to sum up his experience. "Thank you, Master." Was all he could manage.

"No, thank you." Master Gotzin replied. "It's been some time since I last enjoyed myself." He cleared his throat. "Not to say that's the only thing I enjoy from my servants."

Lorin giggled. His master was dignified and formal, as expected by someone of his status, but underneath the exterior he was a bit of a playboy.

"I know that." Lorin replied, rolling his eyes. He leaned in and laid a quick kiss on his master's cheek, before drowsiness took over. The sexual activity had drained him more than he realized.

The last image he saw before his eyes shut in slumber was Master Gotzin smiling warmly at him, watching him drift off into dreamland.


End file.
